Decent men in an indecent world.

In their ivory towers, the movie hotshots are trying to predict the Next Big Thing. Lord of the Rings slipped under the radar; who saw The matrix coming, or Star Wars for that matter?

Ignoring The Rings for a moment, I've never been a part of an event movie. At the time it didn't suprise me that LOTR was packing cinemas - because, thats what always happens, right?


The Dark Knight is an event

There was a queue out the entrance and around the building. The cinema was full, completely full. There were kids, adults, men, women; some sporting their Batman T-shirts, the rest just idle fans. This never happens at our cinema - there are only 60 seats on the largest screen, and its rare more than ten of them are filled. There's no slant on the chairs - its just an average size dark room with chairs on the floor.

As if I wasn't already impressed, they then proceeded to watch the entire film in silence - save the odd nervous giggle at the Joker's quips. No rustling sweets, misbehaving kids or chatter.

That's because The Dark Knight is an event movie. There was something special in the air. Me and my friends have been feeling it for months - initially, I put it down to just plain ole excitement. Friend 3 loves superhero movies; I'm getting into graphic novels, but especially Batman (and Green Arrow, but thats beside the point); Friend 5 loves Christian Bale, and Friend 4 was just excited. But when the trailers started appearing, I was frothing more than anything and bouncing like they'd just announced the Hobbit or something.

For one thing, it's blowing up New York again. Movies used to do that all the time, and then a certain real life event came along and did it properly. Suddenly, Towering Inferno was out of fashion, Spiderman and Men in Black 2 were respectfully tweaking their explosive climaxes, and United 93 and World Trade Center entered pre-production. Film will never be the same again - at least not for a while - because Die-Hard-style building explosions are no longer blockbuster fun, its part of the public consciousness. Even me, who deals with real world tragedy by ignoring it, who lives in England away from the epicenter, who lost no one and knows no one who did, even I feel it as a part of my life - because like hiding from Daleks behind the sofa, or queueing for hours to see Star Wars, its part of the folk memory of our times.

So even though nothing was said, I could feel it in the room. Watching Gotham burn was weird because its the first time any city has been attacked this gleefully on screen Since. At the same time, the shaky Joker camera footage, the dark colours, the downbeat tone showed that something has changed in the blowing-shit-up genre. The same can be said of the hostage situations - the "war on Terror" thang has made these real for us as well.

We also had to contend with the ghost of Heath Ledger who is - haven't you heard? - dead, apparently. Again, nothing was said - as if it needed to be, with such a focus in every Dark Knight related piece. But that too leant the film yet another edge and importance.

Lets get this out of the way - he was fantastic, mindblowingly so. But if he gets the Oscar it will be a travesty of justice. Why? Can you remember the last time an actor won an award for a *shudder* superhero movie? That's because it doesn't happen. They're not "real films" at all. Now you can argue that there's never been a superhero film this good; but lets be honest. Hollywood loves sentiment. And if he wins the award, it'll be for being dead. I'm not saying he doesn't deserve the Oscar - he is, as I said, all kinds of fantastic. But under normal circumstances, he wouldn't stand a chance. It'll just prove what a screwed up, biased and hypocritical affair the whole Oscar lark is.

This film was already special - not on its own merits, but the poignancy of real world things it reflected. But thank goodness it was brilliant into the bargain.

Bale. Caine. Oldman. Freeman. Eckhart. Gyllenhall...erm, who have I forgotten - Ledger, of course. And of the less well knowns, we got a bit more Cillian Murphy as the Scarecrow, and ex-Master Eric Roberts as a mafiosi. Oh, and William Fitchner, who's one of those "where do I recognise?" guys, who I think has a wonderful face.

All wonderful. One flaw of the movies is Batman isn't interesting - he's a lot more fun when he's Bruce Wayne (the opposite of the comics). One of the things that makes this film better than any other super-flick is his backup. Lucius, Alfred, Gordon and (here) Dent are all on his side, giving a range of character interaction and scheming.

In the previous film, he was just fighting the scum - here, despite the presence of two super-villains, the same fight against mafia corruption or police informants keeps it grounded in reality.

I particularly loved the Batman - Harvey Dent relationship. Both characters are doing the same thing in different ways - cleaning the streets, one legally, and one dirty. But both are inspired by the other's efforts. It makes for an interesting dynamic, especially with Rachel in the middle. Rachel isn't given anything to do, but Maggie puts in a much better performance than Katie Holmes did last year. She was just adorably insipid. And she's also responsible for a scene that, given a few months, could be one of my favourites ever (to enter spoilerdom, her bravery in hoping that Batman will rescue her date first when both assume he's going to save her - and her wonderful reaction when she realises he isn't. Wow, what a brainjob. It reminds me of a scene in Count of Monte Cristo. I like it when cinema gets cruel.)

Put Gordon in, and you've got a wonderful trio of heroes. I've always thought Gary Oldman's contribution turned him into maybe the biggest hero of both movies. He's helping in the ordinary way he can, and it suprised me how much I cared for him every time he got into danger. Its always nice to see him playing a good guy - in an alternate universe, he'd doubtless be taking on the giggling psycho role instead. Which I'm sure he'd do admirably, but as a "real actor" his reactions are endlessly watchable. Nice to look at too.

But its all about the direction, really - Nolan gives the whole franchise a sense of dignity and subtlety. Obvious scenes are cut short or missing, suggested by slight reactions. Fight sequences are rooted in dialogue and plot.

That man knows how to make a film. Watch the direction of Two Face - the final confrontation, the ugly half is shadowed to make him a diseased man in a real situation, to make the tension more real. Watch the times when his head is turned one way or another. Its wonderful (and justabout makes up for the fact that Two Face really isn't as interesting as Harvey was. Aaron Eckhart has this wonderfully RobertRedfordish look. Clean shaven, blonde hair - like Redford, he's made for playing decent, upstanding Americans. I didn't buy his emotional transformation, and I wish his makeup had been a little less extreme - he's a very pretty person, and it would have been better had they concentrated on making his honest beauty completely warped and twisted rather than replacing half his head with Imoteph The Mummy. It could have been more devastating - it was only the reactions of the other characters which cemented what a total tragedy his loss was.)

The final Joker scene, hanging upsidedown but with the camera the wrong way up, swaying in the light and the wind is one of the most inspired pieces of direction - cemented of course, by a terrifically freaky piece of acting.

Its cunningly avoided a 15 too. There are a dozen incidents which, with the addition of a bit of blood, would nudge it into a higher catagory. I've always had a lot of faith in the BBFC, but if this is a twelve then Ed Wood deserves an Oscar. Only some very creative cutting snuck it into a lower band - like prosecuting a mobster, when you know he's guilty but don't have the evidence to prove it; thus here, I could feel this film was meant to be a 15, even though it avoided any shots which would move it up.

My one criticism is I didn't know when it was going to end. This might seem mean, but I like to know how much further I've got to go. Even in offbeat, indie efforts, you can normally identify if you're in the climax, the buildup, the payoff. There were several moments when I felt the film was rounding to a conclusion - but then it started up again. I always find that unsettling.

And as usual, a trip to My Local Fleapit Cinema couldn't completely be without hitch - today, they had got their sound balance all wrong - the dialogue was frequently too quiet, drowned out by the music. Which is a pity, because whenever the thumping strings came in it felt intrusive. Shame, because the Zimmer-NewtonHoward team up creates some pieces of music I love - so it was a pity to hate them in context.


Anyway, that's that over - bring on film three! But if you think I'm kidding about the "special" thing, check out IMDb. Dark Knight is beating out Shawshank Redemption and The Godfather on the top 250. it won't last - big new films always jump onto the list then vanish. So even though I'm sure it'll eventually drop, that's one loud round of applause from the internet, for a film only out a few days. Check out the poll - 29.9% think its better than The Godfather, with a very very close 29.2% arguing its worse. I voted for Godfather, incidentally.


In other news, I've just finished reading "Force 10 from Navarone" the sequel to the novel which Guns of Navarone, one of me faves, was based on. It was great! Well, strictly, it wasn't - it was pure pulp, an above-par airport novel. But I loved it, and the novel was far less trashy than it could have been.

The surviving heroes of the first book are catapulted into yet another situation which requires random silent killings, manipulation, sabotage, betrayal, and it's every bit as morally bankrupt as the movie.

I loved the film for its characters - all present and correct - and particularly their silent interaction to resolve tense situations. You may recall the scene on the boat when they are boarded by German soldiers and wordlessly, after a few minutes, explode into violence. The book is stuffed with such scenes. Like the film, even though it looks and feels like a goodole Boy's Own romp, its not afraid to ask tricky questions and be bleak about the cost of war.

But I won't be watching the movie. The lack of the original cast has already killed the idea for me, and it looks like they've replaced Stavros with an American character played by Harrison Ford.

Hold the press. I take it back. Locations list: "Jersey, Channel Islands". I live in Guernsey, a slightly smaller island only 20 minutes away. Now that's more exciting, although I find it hard to tally the remote pine forests, relentless snow and harsh terrain with the glorified seaside resort across the water. A closer look at the list reveals they filmed in Yugoslavia and Montenegro - that must be the Yugoslavia bits then. But they can't have used it for Navarone, surely? the Malta location seems far more likely. So then what? The Italy scenes are more likely to be in one of the studios.

Nevertheless, that has piqued my interest. As has the presence of Paul Jerricho, who played a minor character I loved from 70's Doctor Who.

But the reviews suggest it's not quite as morally taut as the original - and the absence of Peck'n'Niven, not to mention cutting Stavrous entirely, means this is still a lost cause. Now, as for reading the Guns of Nav book, I'm very excited indeed - as soon as I find a copy, that is...

Oooh, and interesting trivia which I wondered about for the whole book. Mr MacLean wrote Force 10 as a sequel to the movie, not his original novel.

Missing in action...

You think you've seen me excited? Think again! They've found Metropolis!

Metropolis is Fritz Lang's 20's sci-fi silent classic. No, don't stop listening - its fantastic. You can't take your eyes off the screen - admittedly, the absence of dialogue means you can't follow it if you do that - but the imagery is impressive, and at times genuinely scary. The plot is dire, but who cares when its that pretty? My original review is here, in which I note:

"I'm going to start with the bad things, starting off with the fact it's not all there. A card flashes up at the beginning of the film and cheerily announces that a quarter of the film is believed to be lost. Now that is tragic - I don't believe anything has upset me that much all year. It's horrible to think that in seventy years time, current films may be similarly fragmented. It didn't spoil my enjoyment of the film, but I just thought the idea was pretty distressing. Somebody evidently had a grudge against the Thin Man, because virtually all his scenes were replaced."

And it really did give me the wobbles to think about a quarter of such a wonderful film curling away into flames, or rotting in a box somewhere. The Wicker Man almost met this fate - just imagine films as good, which chance and time didn't save. I remember passing a rundown, boarded up cinema in a tiny limestone town in France - all very Manon des Sources - and wondering whether Metropolis was hiding away there somewhere. So sign me up for the new DVD! Here's the news, straight from contactmusic!

"Lost footage from cult sci-fi film METROPOLIS has been discovered in
Argentina.The director's cut of Fritz Lang's 1927 classic, featuring an extra 30
minutes, was believed to have vanished forever after it was cut by Paramount
bosses because of bad reviews.However, the curator of the Buenos Aires Film
Museum discovered a copy of the movie in his archives - and a projectionist
noticed it was longer than all other versions of the iconic film. Film restorer
Martin Koerber, who is one of the few people to see the lost footage, says, "No
matter how bad the condition of the material may be, the original intention of
the film, including all of its sub-plots, is now once again tangible for the
normal viewer. The rhythm of the film has been restored."

Well, use of the word cult gets my goat as it always does, but you wouldn't believe how relieved the news makes me. I keep everything. I'm a hoarder, and a sentimental one at that. In front of me as I speak - a tin of uber-strongmints I won two years ago at a speacking contest, a 3-yr old birthday card, a dollar note from an old art project, a WKD bottlecap from my 18th, and a Guiness tower paperweight - with its original packaging. And I'm a creator - I draw, write, shoot, paint and everything. The idea that a whole work of creation has winked out of existance is one of the most horrific things to me. I'm still in mourning for a poem accidentally trashed a few years back. Admittedly, it wasn't great, but the idea still troubles me. Its why I love film, and not theatre. Yes, being in the room has an atmosphere - but its so brief, and my memory so short. It fades and vanishes. You can't compare theatre directors fairly, as you can in cinema - because all you are relying on is memories of distant events.

The impermenance of such things disturbs me. Ovid, Roman poet and quoted here suprisingly often to say he's never made a film, ends his first book of the Amores by claiming he will live on through his poetry. At the time, it was a pretty generic claim for a poet to make - but he has lived on, and will far longer than I shall, and in that sense it makes pretty chilling reading. He prefaces this claim by listing past greats who have been remembered. Homer! Virgil! But others, a lot of others, of who no trace remains. Particularly scary is his praise of Gallus, of whom not a single line remains, but whose name is also praised by most other Roman love poets. He must have written some formidable stuff. Aristophanies was a Greek comedy writer. To be a serious scholar of Aristoph. seems to be made up of trawling through his jokes and trying to work out why they are funny. Its like watching Comic Relief, without a knowledge of contemporary TV, or watching Broken News, without ever having seen a news item, or watching Spitting Image when its the only record you have of half the politicians mocked. One of the people he makes fun of all the time is fellow playwrite and author of tragedies, Euripedes, only 18 of his 95 plays which survive to the modern day. Some of Aristoph's jokes poke fun at plays we know he wrote, but no longer exist. We know, for example, that he was notorious for including beggars only through Aristophanies' parodies - because barely anything of what survives contains them. I blame the bastards who burnt the library at Alexandra. Tom Stoppard has a comment to that effect in Arcadia - which another character answers like so:

"We shed as we pick up, like travellers who must carry everything in their arms, and what we let fall will be picked up by those behind. The procession is very long and life is very short. We die on the march. But there is nothing outside the march so nothing can be lost to it. The missing plays of Sophocles will turn up piece by piece, or be written again in another language. Ancient cures for diseases will reveal themselves once more. Mathematical discoveries glimpsed and lost to view will have their time again. You do not suppose, my lady, that if all of Archimedes had been hiding in the great library of Alexandria, we would be at a loss for a corkscrew?"

Yes, I just typed it all up. I think its meant to be comforting. It doesn't work. What does work is Neil Gaiman's Sandman, in which the God of Dreams has a library of lost, half finished, half dreamt of books. At least they still exist somewhere.

Its not just film and TV which suffer from the ravages of time. Back in the late 60s, the BBC destroyed old episodes. Why shouldn't they? Contracts prevented rebroadcasting, and the home video player unthought of. Whole TV shows have vanished into the aether. The show Z-Cars has two whole years from which no episodes survive - despite the fact it was being shown weekly at the time. United! has no episodes left at all. A whole show! Just like that! You remember faintly enjoying something from yesteryear, look back and its gone. I only found this out recently via my association with Doctor Who. 108 episodes are missing, presumed destroyed. It used to be more - just like Metropolis being discovered in Argentina, so episodes have been recovered from censors offices in Australia, New Zealand, Japan. All that's left of them is a few photos (or "telesnaps" if you're a real fan) and the audiotrack of each episode. Gone.

On the DocWho forums, there's a lot of conspiracy - and anger - directed against collectors who supposedly own and secretly hoard some of these episodes. They're thinking too small - I'll be unhappy if I never see Fury from the Deep. But I'll be unhappier if there is no way at all for me to ever have seen it - short of a time machine and a video-recorder. I find the concept of these things gently sitting in someone's private room quite comforting -we come, we die, but the art lives on. And one day - maybe not in my lifetime - a well meaning relative will return it to the BBC. I rank its survival for the human race as a whole as more important than it being recovered by this generation.

Does this give anyone else the shivers in the same way it does me? Its not only their absence. There are people who have memories of these things that no longer exist - they've seen them, and one by one their memories die with them. Recently, I got onto Doctor Who with my Latin teacher - not an avid fan, but she used to watch Hartnell and Troughton. Back in the 60s. My first reaction to Hartnell fans normally is one of faint embarassment - he's the original, his episodes are lengthy and B&W, I've still not got around to seeing them - in film parlance, like talking to someone who claims Citizen Kane is their fave. But she's not a fan who discovered them through video like me. She was there. At the time. My first reaction was one of internal shock - maybe she saw "Fury from the Deep"? Or "The Tenth Planet"? Its there, in the corner of her mind, just flickers of black and white - the odd image or idea she recalls, augmented by time and memory. These things which only exist in minds.

I was only 9 or 10 when I watched Through the Dragon's Eye. Its one of those surreal childhood memories which everyone has tucked away. Children from the 60s recall hiding from the Daleks behind the sofa - I was terrified by this, an educational program wrapped up in a sub-Narnia story of a magical fantasy world. Not just me either - IMDb reveals a whole generation it has tainted. It was scary at the time, but its scared me since as well. Our hero disappearing into the fog. Boris drowning in a quagmire. Charn. The knitted scarf. For years, its been in the corner of my mind - and one of the questions I ask pretty frequently of strangers is if they have seen it. The tactics payed off recently - turns out one of my best friends not only remembers it, she recorded it on video. We watched it, and it was weird. Like going back to a place you remember but have not visited for a long time. I remembered very little, yet it was all familiar. And the scene I remembered most vividly - the human-sized mouse turning back into a real animal in the underground cave sequence - where was it? It never happened. And just as entire seasons of Troughton's Doctor Who have been erased in solid form, so they are being erased in the memories of those who saw it.

Incidentally, mum has the same reaction to Escape to Witch Mountain. She has minimal interest in watching Doctor Who, but keeps harassing me about a particular episode which she recalls through the same creepy childhood mist. Her predominant memory is of corridors, dark corridors in a military base - although she did recall enough for us to track down the only one it could be. "The Singing Ringing Tree" is another one often associated with childhood trauma. And I'm sure you have your own. But I stray from my point, which was that in absence of a solid version, our own ideas start to influence the story as it exists.

Robert Rodriguez plays with it in Planet Terror by deliberately inserting a "Missing Reel" card, then jumping to twenty minutes later in the movie with no explanation. Characters have been killed or injured, buildings damaged, whole situations changed. Tarantino, in one of the many pre-Grindhouse interviews, describes a film he saw when this actually happened, and which he was always dying to know. Eventually, with fame, time and cash, he managed to dig one up - and it wasn't half as interesting as the speculation. It happened with "Tomb of the Cybermen", which people raved about for years as the lost gem of Doctor Who - a real classic. Then it was found, and everyone discovered it was really rather ordinary after all. It led to a pretty effective quip on Tachyon TV webzine, "The BBC have found Episode 7 of The Daleks Masterplan. However, it's so embarrassing they've wiped it again." In another place they suggest: "The BBC have announced that the final three episodes of the new Doctor Who series will be destroyed before they are even transmitted. A BBC statement said: "For the fans who complain that the series isn't as good as it was in the 60's and 70's, we will be wiping the final three episodes as soon as they leave the edit suite. This way fans can debate whether they were ever any good or not for years". Losing things gives them an epic status - and this is because memory takes over.

I warned you I had a hangup about this. People often refer to these times as a "throwaway lifestyle" - temporary communications through email, temporary fame through TV or the web, using items designed for temporary use. What no one points out is that now we're saving more than ever before. Take your favourite DVD - chances are it'll have deleted scenes, maybe even a blooper reel. You can order Through the Dragon's Eye on video - other vigilantes have copied their copies, and buy them through eBay. Day of the Daleks has survived, been released by the BBC, and so my mum can resolve her bizzare memories. Amazon, ebay and the rest allow you to contact people who have what you look for - myriad file formats, and the technology to muck around with them in the home gives us a greater flexibility. Look at those 60s Doctor Who fans, who recorded the episode as best they could with an audio tape recorder and a microphone - creating the only surviving evidence. We can record onto video, Skybox, a HDD player, transfer it to DVD, download it off the iPlayer or even, for those of flexible moral standards, various illegal methods of preservation. In the medieval times, few people were rich enough to have books - they were rare luxuries, which had to be hand copied at great expense. Ever seen medieval chained libraries - like something out of Harry Potter- where the books are in heavy wooden boxes, literally chained to the shelves to preserve them? How many books do you have in your house? We have the National Film archive, and a library under the British Museum with a copy of every book ever written. The BBC have even apologetically set up a detailed tribute website so you can reconstruct what's gone, and Blue Peter are offering a life sized Dalek to anyone who can return missing footage.

In such an atmosphere, its unlikely anything will be lost in quite the same way as Metropolis was. And after sinking into a well of despair halfway through, maybe there is some comfort to be found in Arcadia.

"oh Septimus - how can you bear it? All the lost plays of the Athenians!
Two hundred at least by Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides - thousands of
poems - Aristotle's own library brought to Egypt by the noodle's ancestors?
How can we sleep for grief?"

"By counting our stock. Seven from Aeschylus, seven from Sophocles, seventeen from Euripides, my lady!"

Because this isn't a record of all the things a careless human race has misplaced, or "put in a safe place" - it's an expression of joy that something has been saved. The rest of Metropolis! Pray, O desparate movie buffs, pray that unlike "Tomb of the Cybermen" it was as truly worth recovering as everyone has always hoped. And now I'm going to watch some celebratory Through the Dragon's Eye...

We two against the world.

So we watched Planet Terror. Did I enjoy it? Stupid question. It was everything I expected it to be, and awesome to boot.

PT is unashamed trash, glorious wonderful trash. The script is knowingly awful (but never at the expense of a few good lines - say, the running joke about useless talents), but you watch it to see a babe with a machine-gun-leg, not Proustian digressions on the nature of the self.

Speaking of legs, this movie came out last year when my sister broke her thighbone. At the time I suggested she have it replaced with a gun - even though it was the other leg. I'm not sure she appreciated the suggestion. Ironically enough, the broken leg would resurface as we watched - she repeatedly pointed out the medical flaws in Cherry's ability to walk, talk, swear, shag, ride a bike, on account of her being a) in shock and b) under anesthetic. Everytime I began to explain that, having been attacked by zombies, presumably the zombie-juice would cauterise the wound in some way, she replied defensively that I had no idea what it felt like, and she did. Which presumably means there's something about the whole "I just broke my leg while on a cycle" scenario that she's not telling me...

I loved the jumpy, scuffed up style. In my opinion, the film would have been dire without it. It took the film one level more away from reality - allowing for greater gore content and excusing the deliberately terrible bits. At the same time, the raw nastiness of the screen quality amped up the nastiness of the movie, giving it a surreal, lurid quality. When I was looking for a copy of Saw to view at Halloween, the only one I could find to borrow was a pirate edition which was savagely blurred - I bought it in the end, because the script and performances alone were not atmospheric enough without the mucky detail of the bathroom set. And thus here, the occasional jumps and scuffs, those moments when everything but red washed out of the film, the sound was all crackled up, the image wobbled or the film burnt up entirely. Hell, its just like our local cinema!

At the same time, it still made a good movie. I loved the Wray-Cherry relationship, the sherrif-Wray relationship (and wasn't the idea of placing the inevitable scene when they bond man-style in the "missing reel" a genius one - we instantly know what's gone on), and the two brothers (particularly when it gets all buddyish). And I want Dakota's syringe gun!

Turns out my family are as nerdy on Robert Rodriguez as I am - Dad identified Cheech Marin as Sex Machine from Dusk til Dawn, while my sister spotted the running Machete gag from Spy Game, and I identified Dakota's son Tony as Rodriguez's own son Rebel. Incidentally, don't RR's kids have the coolest names - Rebel, Racer, Rocket and Rogue. His daughter is a more restrained Rhiannon. Although it might come as a hinderance when Rocket wants to become a tax attorney, it's an awesome name for a kid.

RR still makes his films like indie films, despite having the mainstream budget. Planet Terror, for example, stars his personal physician as a doctor, and his real estate agent as a strip club owner. He used his own son because he didn't want to genuinely traumatise a child. And if you've seen the film, check out the imdb FAQ for further details of his son's role because its just fascinating. The bottom line is: I love this guy.

Favourite fact from imdb: John Carpenter was originally involved in the music, and although RR eventually wrote it himself, extracts from Escape from New York appear. You may well ask why this is so interesting. One of my mid-movie reactions was noting the similarity of both movie and music to John Carpenter's Assault on Precinct 13. It's always nice to prove yourself right...

Afterwards, we watched a particularly violent episode of Battlestar Galactica, and I was back to wincing. Planet Terror's gore is so over the top - the lurid over-saturated colours make it look less like ketchup and more like a sort of salsa - that it soon ceases to have an effect. Coupled with the outlandish plot, its far less disgusting than BSG's rather restrained garotting which was set in a realistic place. Well, relitavely...

I just wish I could have seen it on screen. And I wish I could drag my friends around to see it - it's the type of film that should be seen with friends. As it was, I watched with father and sister who were a good audience. It's just a pity its way. way. way. way. too unpleasant in every way for my buddies. I wouldn't enjoy it, because they wouldn't. But I might get them to see Death Proof - a girly movie, with lots of car chases.

My only fear is that, with Planet Terror turning out so good, I won't enjoy it as much. Especially because that movie was the one I was most excited about - the grunge, grime and horror. Death Proof sounds like more its own film, and less of such a faithful pastiche.

Speaking of QT, I saw a horribly exploitative offer in town today. It's one thing to be ripped off; its quite another to recognise you are being ripped off, and want it anyway. It's a limited edition Reservoir Dogs case. I say limited edition - I mean cheap knockoff. The DVD cover's like none I've ever seen before, and the whole thing smacks of a shoddy pirate effort. It comes in a case with handcuff cufflinks, Vic Vega dogtags, a Vic Vega flick-razor (it's actually a comb, but it looks like the razor, so who's counting), sunglasses and - the ultimate in tasteless cool - a Vic Vega cigarette lighter. Now what the fuzz would I do with a lighter? I don't even smoke, and I'd run out of cops to burn pretty quickly. But...but...its so preeeety...

Anyway, good sense prevailed - I can't justify it. But I can ogle it lovingly all the same. Instead, I got Paths of Glory and The Big Lebowski in the HMV £4 sale, and took All About Eve out of the library. It's gonna be a good week...

But why has the LSD gone?!

Exams are over! I am free! Free to spend my own time again, and indulge in all those special treats I have been saving for myself!

Which has so far become horrible proof of why you should never deny yourself anything 'til a later date. I had all ready my four indulgences - buy Doctor Who episode Ghost Light on DVD, finally read Doctor Who novel "Love and War", and watch two new movies by my two favourite directors.

Only Ghost Light wasn't in HMV. And "Love and War" made me angry and miserable, but mostly angry. The Happening isn't out at the cinema over here - and I'm looking forward to it less and less. And so everything came to rest on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas - the last of Terry Gilliam's "good movies" which I haven't seen. (Now I'm left with Jabberwocky and Baron Munchausen which, even though some do praise, Friend 4 ranks it as fairly dire. And I'm inclined to believe her seeing as I have, over the years, subjected her to almost all his other movies. Incidentally, she likes Time Bandits more, Tideland less, but we're in agreement that Brazil is the second coming.)

And thank goodness for it! Absolutely what I expected, but in a good way (as opposed to The Happening, which on the grounds of his previous excellent movies, I can nevertheless anticipate beat for beat from the trailer). In retrospect, TG making a film about drugs was a bit of a no-duh, after years of movies which made people think he was under the influence.

I didn't catch half the dialogue - but that's OK, as I want to read the book and I get the feeling that much of it was taken verbatim (You know you've got it bad when you deliberately want to see the film before reading the book, when you don't want the novel to scar your impressions of the movie. Even though I seem to recall fans of the book feel something was lost in translation...). You don't watch TG movies to listen to them. You watch them to drown in the imagery, the larger than life characters, the unplaceable grotesque. All big, all slightly off kilter. It's not a desperate feat of the imagination to guess what TG does drugs would look and feel like.

As an adaption - I don't know, haven't read it yet - but the movie made clever use of the first-person perspective. For example, Johnny Depp breaking out of his interior monologue and realising he's speaking aloud. There seems to be something about "drugs + 'Nam + American Dream = counter-cultural classic" - The Beach did it, On the Road did it, and now this.

It also gave me a terrible craving for an exotic fruit drink. Luckily, mum has bought an industrial tonne of drinks for this evening (see below), but 'tis bizzare.

Ah, what else. Definitely top prize goes to those horrible sets, conveying squalour, 80s glamour and nuttiness in equal measure. The music was ace, not only for the movie, but also because it was all genres, artists and songs I liked. Particularly White Rabbit and Somebody to Love, Jefferson Airplane's only two amazing songs. Some interesting cameos by small stars too - Christina Ricci, Cameron Diaz, Tobey Maguire. And Johnny Depp looks disturbingly middle aged, even though he has since made movies more glam.

Mind you, it's not all good. I now have 45 minutes to clear my head before my parents rather swish house party. The only reason I watch films is to tangle my brain inside someone elses - to get out of my life. Like watching Ferris Bueller for a boost when you feel rebellious, or Fight Club when you hate your life, or Velvet Goldmine when you need to feel fantastic. And I can't think of worse place to be, headwise, than Fear and Loathing for socialising with nice people who want to know how my exams went. Mes parens have been at home for several hours now, tidying and cooking pre-party - I've dressed, but my bedroom looks like some of the sets (less vomit. More books. Same number of reptiles. No American flag.) In this post-movie mood, it even seems quite cosy.

I'm listening to Amazing Grace on loop to cool my brain (its a version played on stalacmite organ, quite lovely and peaceful). And for once in my life, I feel like getting very, very drunk (you know what they say about movies influencing behavior? Well...) Mind you, I'd still never want to take drugs. I wouldn't see the point when I could get about as high on flicks like this...

And a PPPPS to all that...

4. The Happening is out! And Cinecism is not a happy bunny. Why is Cinecism an unhappy bunny? Because it's not out over here. Which means I'll have to endure it being criticised by all and sundry, and won't be able to defend it. Fair enough - If i'm already resolved to defend it, why can't I do it without having seen the film first. After all, being an M. Night fan, I know what one of his movies looks like; and the trailer doesn't seem to have broken the mould. And it never stopped me with Grindhouse. But if the best the Times critic can come up with to justify his 3 star review is "the good news is this film isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be", you know there's not justice in the world.

Fair enough - that's exactly what my most recent Hulk review said. But that was the Incredible Hulk - a comic book adaptation, a sequel to a not-great film, a movie about two big lumps of CG smashing each other. Forgive me, but I'm allowed to be critically sniffy.

We're talking about one of our classiest directors here - a guy who has proved that "mainstream" and "shit" are not necessarily synonomous. Ghosts, superheroes, alien invasion! Only with style and a lot of heart. That's the deal-sealer for me - the way he takes these unlikely movie situations, and really gets into the emotions of what that situation would be like.

We're also talking about a group of petty, petty people who're still peeved about getting caught out by Sixth Sense; the same cynical people who've cheerfully struck back at everything he's done since. Until Lady in the Water that was OK. Because Unbreakable was insanely classy; Signs a brilliant thriller, even if you couldn't make a leap of faith at the end; and The Village had nice music. But Lady has become an open invitation to just lay in. It was not a terrible film! It was an attempt to do something different - and it only failed a little bit.

Michael Bay! Uwe Boll! Ed Wood! There aren't lines of people waiting to pour scorn on their movies, some of which are truly terrible. Check out his IMDB's director's board - the hate never stops and I don't know why.

Maybe it's just the undercurrents. Every director has underlying ideas and themes which he brings to every movie. For M. Night it's redemption through the supernatural, Philidelphia, great set pieces, James Newton Howard music and me crying at the end. The things the masses admired in Sixth Sense - i.e. heartstopping terror - aren't in the other films. People keep saying "ugh, but the Village wasn't scary..." But was it meant to be? No. Incidentally, the things which attracted me to Res Dogs aren't always there in QT's other movies - the sincere human drama and tension. So it works both ways.

In any case, I am peeved that I can't see it at the cinema, already on the defensive, at war with anyone who doesn't like it - on principle unless they first prove that they thought Unbreakable was a decent piece of cinema, and very annoyed.

Brideshead Regurgitated

Go and see Speed Racer. Take your kids. And your pets. And your next-door neighbours

Ahem. Sorry, I'll stop dribbling and try to write coherently.

9 years ago, the collective human jaw crashed to the floor a few minutes into this little action movie known as The Matrix, as the camera spiralled around a hovering Carrie Anne Moss. I was only 9 at the time, so by the time I saw it the wow factor had worn off.

What very few people noticed is the anime influence. It certainly never struck me until I saw the Animatrix, discovered the Wachowski's love for the whole...is it fair to call anime a genre? A movement? In any case, they adore it, and the concept behind bullet time was merely what anime had been doing for years - hero leaps up into a pose and pauses before delivering a killer blow. All they did was translate it into three dimensions and you have it, instant cool.

I knew it was based on an anime series, but I was amazed how faithful it was. Not to the story - I never followed Mahha GoGoGo, but the style. Particularly the way heads move past each other in dialogue.

I just wish I had more courage in my convictions to say outright that its the most brilliant original movie made since whenever. It's easy to dismiss this as a kids film, and believe me your 8-year-old boys will love it. But that's not quite the point - this is the movie Kill Bill wanted to be, a gleeful pastiche of a much loved genre. But where QT failed, the Wachowski's succeed: in filling the audience with their enthusiasm. It's still sufficiently childlike to entertain the nippers, but stylistically, it looks like the most expensive episode of Power Rangers ever.

So please, go see Speed Racer ready to experience deliberately obvious characters in the midst of an offbeat masterpiece. It's not even style over substance - the substance is a level clever than it had to be - and go see it at the biggest cinema you have. You're lucky - your local doesn't have 9 seats in a row at its widest point. There were two other people in the cinema besides us, they were at the back, we were at the front and there were only 20 rows between us.



But lets talk about the real reason we went to see Speed Racer - Matthew Fox, the artist formerly known as Jack from LOST. The irritating doctor to those of you who switched off in the first series. Remarkably, his acting has visibly improved across the series - he's starting to plough some impressive emotional depths, and increasingly looks like the only one who'll get off the island with a career. He was good in this. The last Film I Watched With My Sister Because It Had Matthew Fox In was We are Marshall - see this post for what I thought of that slushfest - which was the utter antithesis of this. It was obvious; this is knowingly obvious. It was boring. This is pretty damn exciting, and I don't mean loud music and car crashes - I mean visually exciting, thrilling direction. You ain't seen nothin like it.

Unless you're an anime fan. When you ain't seen nothin like it...in three dimensions.



PS - Doing a bit of investigation into the new Brideshead Revisited movie. The prospect is bleak. As a fan of the book, and the tv series, it has some work to do in my estimation. Hell, I've een been seen to complain that the series (a virtually word perfect adaption) cuts my favourite line
from, the book!




I don't object in principle - after all, Pride and Prejudice also made a good book, then a good perfect BBC adaptation, then a good two hour movie with all the dross chopped out. There's a lot of Brideshead that could go, but the difficulty is that it's ALL dross. They eat dinner. They drive. They talk. If you're looking for plot, then frankly there ain't none. Once you start cutting, its hard to know what to keep.


Brideshead is a story in two acts, and inevitably the movie intends to focus on the less interesting, less subtle and frankly, less romantic relationship between ordinary bod Charles and Julia Marchmain than betwee Charles and her brother Sebastian. Think Brideshead - think teddies, Oxford and strawberries on the lawn! All doomed to the big bad world of cut. pparently they're removing the references to catholicism, which is really ripping the guts out of the novel. Without lingering in spoiler territory, it'll put Julia's motivation entirely oput of whack.

Brideshead is also a story of a life. People drift in and out, Charles gets a lot older. The Julia relationship takes place when they are both in the middle of it. Inevitably, they'll rocket it into his youth so the actors can remain pretty, which will again change the focus and feel of their eventual coming together.



I don't want to damn it automatically. They could still make a good story out of it, even if it ain't whats on the page. But it won't be Brideshead, at which point they could easily twist their desired rewrite into a totally new film. Mind you, marketing and distribution and all, tying it into a recongised concept will increase its appeal. But not by much - because the Brideshead lovers are into period drama anyway, and thus you won't expand your audience by much.



Lets look at the official guff:

"A provocative and suspenseful drama, “BRIDESHEAD REVISITED” tells an evocative story of forbidden love and the loss of innocence set in the pre-WWII era. i.e. it wants to be the new Atonement. This line gets up my nose bigtime. There is no suspense, its far too sedate a story for that. I don't know what they mean by provocative; probably the same thing as evocative, a film which moves you, just like every other film ever made. That's production company double speak. I don't get what's so forbidden about it either. Loss of innocence is arguably the best descriptor.


In the film, Charles Ryder becomes entranced with the noble Marchmain family, first through the charming and provocative Sebastian Flyte, and then his sophisticated sister, Julia. The rise and fall of Charles’ infatuations reflect the decline of a decadent era in England between the wars. That's much better. Oh how I wish that was the film they are making, as it sums it up wonderfully. Academy Award-winner Emma Thompson co-stars as Lady Marchmain. No I don't think so. No please. The film, based on Evelyn Waugh’s acclaimed novel is adapted for the screen by multiple BAFTA Award-winner Andrew Davies who did pretty much any BBC adaptation you can name and Jeremy Brock and directed by Julian Jarrold."





Now for the poster:

I like the dramatic placement of Lady Marchmain - even though this was probably just to get their biggest star, Emma Thomson, on the poster, she's a key character and well suited to the "overshadowing villain" position here. Unfortunately, I can forsee her standing in the way of the "forbidden love" mentioned before, which'll be a pity - her damaging effect is so much more subtle and realistic in the book. I also like them featuring Brideshead itself - it's a cornerstone of the book, an important character in its own right. Obviously the three pretty leads are playing "spot the love triangle" in the corner, but it works.

But you know my low quip about it wanting to be Atonement (ironic for a book which clearly itself wanted to be Brideshead at times, with the fountain and tiled floors)? What colour is Julia wearing? What colour is the word "revisited"? Yes, its the same shade as that stunning and iconic dress sported by Keira Knightly in all the publicity. Clearly gunning for your subconscious!

The tagline reads: "Privilege. Ambition. Desire. At Brideshead, everything comes at a price." Two minds. On the one hand, I hate it for being so obvious, so American, so everything that the book isn't. It sounds like the characters will be striving for those things, aiming at complete hedonism. They're not - the tragedy is that they're born into the privilege. On the other, aside from the wretched clichedness, it does sum up the themes pretty well. Change it to "Privilege, Love and Catholicism" and I'd be happy (because it is love, not desire, even though love doesn't sell as well as sex these days)

Rating: PG-13 for some sexual content. Because even period dramas don't sell unless someone takes their clothes off.

And now for the trailer. This could be the deal breaker. Like a watched pot, a watched youtube buffering bar never boils.

Pardon me, wiping the vomit off the carpet. What was that?! It was all going so well. It was very bizzare seeing the well loved Castle Howard inhabited by a new generation of flapper dresses and cravats, very odd indeed. As such, it was quite bizzare to see other actors in the roles. I'm not a complete Brideshead obsessive, you realise; I didn't expect to feel this facet of a new adaptation would feel so troubling. It looks like the catholicism is back on the bill, for which I am thankful. As predicted, the whole time frame has been shrunk - Julia is going to Venice, and any relationship there will be taking place while the actors are young and gorgeous. It looks like they'll deal with the sexual ambiguity of the Charles/Sebastian relationship, probably making it more overt (in the book, it's never stated that they are more than friends, even though there is a troubling transfer of platonic affection from Sebastian to proper passion for his sister, who it is often stated looks very similar. For me, the most satisfying reading is that he and Sebastian are in love of a kind, but not one that's ever stated. i.e. I feel ambiguity is best.)

The grot set in when they called Evelyn Waugh's masterpiece an "acclaimed" novel, which for me is a bit like saying Shakespeare was a fairly good writer. Acclaimed may suit for a modern little known novel, but it feels odd here.

And then they start frantically cutting like it's the most exciting thriller ever, giving away half the plot, and what a plot it is! They've turned Charles and Julia into Cecelia and Robbie as far as I'm concerned. After all this meandering and mulling over the various possibilites and trying to be even handed, I'm not sure I'd get to the end of the film. Not sure I'd get to the end of the trailer for a moment here.

It was inevitable that there would be chopping. But why introduce entirely new elements? It's a powerful story alone. Charles is seduced by the lifestyle, but he's not a social climber. Like I said above, making things which are subtle more obvious and cheap. And as for engaging Julia against her will? Perlease. She's barely a maiden fair being carried off by a villianous monster.

All in all, maybe this is one I'll have to miss. And make myself one day, and properly. I'd quite like to see the movie in the first half of the trailer, that looks OK. But from 1:44 onwards, things go downhill. They're trying to churn drama out of an entirely undramatic book. The joy of Brideshead Revisited is the sublety, but they have to make everything so horribly obvious.

PPS - Boycott Heinz Sandwich Spread! It's too creepy. You note it's not "tomato spread" or "chicken spread". Nope, it's "Sandwich Spread", to distinguish it from all those spreads you don't put on sandwiches. Lets see what it's described as: "A tangy cruchy spread". Oh look, it spreads. Ingredients? Well, whatever they are, they're tangy and crunchy. Dead mice perhaps? Finally, the serving suggestion - and this is the idiot-proof bit. "Heinz Sandwich Spread is a perfect addition to any sandwich".

Er, thanks. Naturally. NOW BAN THIS SICK SPREAD!

Nothing comes between me and my AK

Now why would anybody want to pick on poor, maligned Jackie Brown?

The impression you get goes something like this – ignoring the cousins (Four Rooms), second cousins (Sin City) and adoptees (Hostel and Hero), Pulp Fiction and Res Dogs are the solid centre of QT’s film family. You’re not going to alarm anyone unduly by claiming they’re the Best Films Ever – even if you disagree personally. Grindhouse and Kill Bill are the slightly gangly little kid sisters – more of an acquired taste, but not without fans. And then Jackie Brown – the fruity aunt whose eccentricities we tolerate, but don’t encourage.

Odd comparison, but it’s the impression I get – it’s basically establishment now to like the first two, it’s cool-in-a-culty-way to worship the latter pair. You get one or two oddballs who admire Jackie Brown and remind you it’s “his most mature and subtle film”, but they’re mostly sour D.W. Griffith fans who pathologically disagree that films should be fun.


Well wake up and smell the roses – I’m out on a limb to tell you Jackie ain’t half bad. We may even have to elevate her to older sister status.

Fair enough, Pulp Fiction’s “the classic”, but who really gives a damn about any of them? I liked all of the characters, they were variously cool and amusing, but I wasn’t going to shed any tears should they meet with misfortune…well, possibly Pumpkin and Honey Bunny, but then again I’m biased (timrothlove…) Compare Butch’s pretty insipid romance with the beautifully handled relationship between Jackie and Max. I mean finally, some fully rounded characters! By gum, I love every single character in Dogs (save Joe) but at the end of the day, you can reduce them down to one or two character traits…

I’ve heard it said Tarantino can’t write realistic women. Disagree. On the strength of Kill Bill vol 1 and Pulp Fiction alone, you’ve got a good case – but Jackie herself is wonderful character. Yes, she’s a strong female, but it’s never at the expense of her humanity. She’s allowed to cry and have basic, sensible human fears, without seeming weak. Her friendship with Max is a beauty to watch.

On the other hand, she’s not really Tarantino’s woman at all. What we have here is a Elmore Leonard's novel Rum Punch pulled apart and reassembled as a QT film. Consequently, while you can recognise all the hallmarks, at its core the story is a completely different animal. It’s like remodelling a Skoda as a Cadillac – the tailfins are there, but if you try to drive it at speed, you’re going to notice the difference.

For one thing, the humour’s all gone. Jackie Brown is pretty entertaining (because of the music) but it’s nowhere near as fun as the others. QT himself has argued that PF and RD belong in the comedy section. He writes with a smirk and a wink – amid the ultra-realism, you’re reminded it’s not real. Perhaps my complaint that his characters are generally unsympathetic helps this – you can still have a fun time, even if they’re not.

For one thing, notice how all the deaths here are handled gently – no Kill Bill style limb loss or bloodbath a la Dogs here. They take place mostly off screen, with the minimum of ceremony and maximum respect. You don’t laugh, you can’t even smirk (one possibly exception SPOILERVISION: the death of Melanie. It’s a horrible, brutal moment (is this the nastiest QT moment ever? You are, after all, invited to enjoy Mr Blonde’s moment of glory…), but I couldn’t help a momentary, shocked chuckle at Louis’ overreaction.) Perhaps this is where the regular QT fans disappeared – there’s not the comedy comfort zone.


At the same time, all the exterior tweaks are 100% Tarantino. It's got a brilliant soundtrack (think the intercut sequence, where the three separate parties are differentiated by the three different things they're listening to on the radio) and operates in a banal world (i.e. Ordell needs to explain how his car key works. This kinda thing happens all the time in real life, but in films these details are pared down so no one ever gets confused when using unfamiliar items unless it’s a massive plot point.) The homages are subtle, but present; he's resurrecting the career of a slightly past-it star (here, Pam Grier). We had a trunk shot (and was anyone else reminded of the on-set trivia about Michael Madsen deliberately riding down a bumpy road with the radio on when Kirk Baltz decided to follow his actor's method?) - and he even managed to pull the same scene-different angle trick in the dressing room scene.

Not that being samey is necessarily a virtue, but it proves this isn't muse-sacrificing movie. My favourite overhang was that vintage-kitch world his movies inhabit. Even when reminded it's the 90s, it still feels like it's set in a different era. Can you even imagine Tarantino characters buying iPods? Vinyl, yes, tape, yes, radio or jukebox, fine. CDs and iPods? Never...

Let’s put it this way. In the original story “Rum Punch”, Jackie was a blonde bimbo. That says it all, really.


I can see why it’s unpopular; yet at the same time, I think there's a good case to be made for it being better than Pulp (not that I'm brave enough to be the one to make it)...maybe even Dogs as well, though it's unlikely to replace it in my affections.

For one thing, it was nice to see a plot again. Boring? Only if that's a synonym for well paced and relaxed - and it frequently is. I’ll admit the film dragged in places, and it could have lost 15 minutes here and there, but that didn’t significantly spoil my enjoyment (specifically the Ordell section after the shopping centre sequence. It felt like the film had ended ten minutes ago – and if I’m gonna be really picky, it took a while to get going too. )

Actually, as boring is the insult most frequently levelled at it, let’s just sit down and have a long hard think about his other films. I know this meant to be about JB, and not a bitch at PF*, but still…it must be said…if someone were to accuse Pulp of being boring (which I, as a pretentious-movie-buff in training, blindly adoring Tarantino fangirl and bona fide coward, would never even consider) I’d admit they had a very good point. Somebody called Dogs boring last week, and love it as I do, I could also see where they were coming from. I’m not saying Jackie was “less boring” – I’m saying it’s “as boring”.

I’d say that Tarantino counts as an auteur (I don’t care what Truffaut laid down, my private scoring system is this: “Can you talk about one of their films in isolation, without referencing the rest?” I hate this obsession with reviews which resort to discussing the film’s background and citing influences more than the film itself and its own merits. Which is why when I find myself doing it, I know it’s irresistible auteur-power. You’ll see this is the second recent review which has accidentally spilled over into director-love…) which entitles us to write about his films as a sequence, instead of individual works. But Jackie Brown is special. She really needs to be treated differently. PF and RD are a natural pair, and should be left so. Similarly, KB and Grindhouse can be placed in the same box as rampant tributes to everything going. And while I’ve just spent a few pages comparing her (oops, mybad) you’ll get a lot more out of it if you try to think of it on its own. A lot of people will go into it expecting (and wanting) Dogs 3, and they’re the ones which’ll come out disappointed. Is Fellowship of the Ring better than Run Lola Run? Is 2001:A Space Odyssey better than L.A. Confidential? Is Memento better than Citizen Kane? There's a reason you're finding those questions hard to answer...

To put the focus on the actors a moment, they’re all fab. Special mention for Samuel L. Jackson, who is really starting to go up in my estimation: Ordell makes an increasingly chilling villain, without ever becoming pantomime. I think that's more or less it. To sum up, then - this film is not a comedy, and shouldn't be compared to his other comedies. If you don't do that, then you're going to love this film. It’s been 20 minutes and I’m still beaming. It served the ultimate function of film – entertainment. I feel great. In fact, it’s so cool that I feel cool; and I’m telling you, I’m as groove-less as they come. And I loved the Chicks who Love Guns video. Outrageous, but almost plausible…


That probably wasn't the best review I've ever written. Too many things to say, not enough commas, semi-colons and brackets to say them with. Really wasn't very coherent at all. Oh well, I think you got the gist - I liked it a lot. On the other hand, I'm hardly a reliable and unbiased source, considering a) that I'm something of a QT nut and b) I enjoyed Godfather III.


Final word I'm just going to throw in while we're on the subject...and honestly, folks, it is a subject I try not to return to too too often...Tarantino just has this spell over me. All concept of "rated 18"and "patience" go straight out the window the moment he makes a film I haven't seen. And most recently, Grindhouse has invaded that despairing "I have got to see this film right now" hole in my heart so recently vacated by Reservoir Dogs and The Godfather - my new infandum amorem.

I made the mistake of finding and listening to the fantastic soundtrack online. I've been mournfully haunting the official website, playing with the scream machine (ok, only in short bursts, because it's sick) and building my own poster and trailer, not to mention loping around imdb as spoiler-freely as is humanly possible. Friend 4 informs me I used "the G word" five times within three hours. This is all exacerbated by the fact Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost contributed a trailer (significance being that their Hot Fuzz also occupies a small part of that dispairing space, and it isn't out on dvd until 11th June) which is compiling the agony somewhat.

Mope...mope...it's not out in cinemas over here....mope...and it really needs to be seen at the cinema...mope...and our cinema would be perfect for it, because you get the GH-style crackles and scratches on most films here anyway...and I'm not 18 anyway...mope. But you heard it here first: he's promised to make Inglorious Bastards next (read: spaghetti western set in nazi occupied France), and so far both Tim Roth and Michael Madsen are on the cast list. I'm sure I'm not the only one drooling about that combination. And if things continue that way I'm gonna go see it at the cinema.


*OK, I’m sorry Establishment, I take it back. I am deeply, deeply fond of PF. Don’t hurt me? Please?

I like it, while consciously admitting to myself that there’s something missing – there was never any love. Lots of good things, but they never quite join into a satisfying whole. Great script, great music, great editing, a whole whack of great moments, but no glue. And I’d say my problem with it was lack of emotion. The acting was acceptable, not great – there wasn’t anything wrong with it, but as the plot abandons traditional character arcs in favour of random and meaningless events, there were never any deep emotions for the actors to get their teeth into. They proved they could chat, but we never saw them bleed (emotionally as well as physically)

Plotless is OK up to a point, as long as there’s something which significantly makes up for it. PF almost manages it, with the intriguing characters and fab script, but it’s missing genuine heart. OK, that phrase conjures images of dreadful made-for-TV movies about some kid dying of leukaemia (spot the quote ;) or sickening “heartwarming” tales of a child’s bond with their grandmother (spot the bad film) but I watch films for an emotional ride and Pulp never gets out of first gear. You laugh, you feel uncomfortable, and that’s it. Because you’re uncomfortable, you never laugh as much as you might and vice versa.

So, back to my boring claim. This is the real killer. I have a lot of affection for PF – I put it on when I’m feeling really miserable, but have work to do. Just hearing the words and music is comforting in a wacky way, but crucially, it’s not so engaging I get nothing done. I can easily write an essay while watching it. That’s a claim I make for very, very, very few films indeed. Actually, I can’t think of any other films which I can ignore with such ease.

So is JB better than Pulp? Obviously not – all those critics and members of the general public can’t be wrong [/sarcasm] Seriously, I don’t know. They can’t be compared. They shouldn’t be compared. STOP COMPARING THESE MOVIES!

In defence of my top 12 - part 5

5 Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
Two minor characters from Hamlet wander around offstage trying to work out what exactly is going on...only if that doesn't sound too appealing, you should still watch it anyway.

One of the first things I recall of Friend 5 is her asking me is whether I’d seen this film. A few years later, she got round to lending me the tape. Her family had recorded it off the tv when she was very small, and had redited it to remove all the slightly objectionable bits (of which there are very, very, very few) including the last, ooh, 20 minutes? You thought it was confusing as it was – well imagine seeing it with chunks randomly removed. Nevertheless, I was hooked, enchanted from the first conversation.

In fact, I still remember the three particular lines that got me hooked. Not that I’m going to repeat them, as you probably don’t care, but I was pretty quickly charmed. My advice for anyone watching it, is not to go in with any expectations, and don’t be too picky. OK, so it makes very little sense in places – one coin coming down heads 90 or so times?! – but the audience's consolation is that our heroes are just as confused. To quote the best review of the movie ever:

"Don’t understand the Shakespearian dialogue that breaks out every time Ros
& Guil appear ‘onstage’ in the play going on around them? Never fear,
they really don’t understand it either, and for the most part will spend the
next 5 minutes trying to figure out what everyone was just talking about..."

Kudos to the cast as well. They single-handedly keep afloat a film based entirely on its script – there is basically not a single bit of action for the entire thing. And it’s not Dr Seuss either – but they rattle off the confusing tounge twisters with such panache that they sound like they make sense. Even when they really don’t:

G -“and receive such thanks as fits a king’s remembrance.”

R - “Oooh, I like the sound of that. What do you think she meant?”

G -“He doesn’t forget his friends.”

R -“Would you care to estimate?”

G -“Some kings tend to be amnesiac; others…the opposite, I suppose. Whatever
that is.”

R -“How much?!”

G -“Retentive. He’s a very retentive king. A royal retainer!”

R -“What are you playing at?”

Very good question - I STILL have no idea what that particular exchange means, and I’ve seen it nigh on 12 times now. It’s like real Shakespeare – you look at it on the page and think “whaaa?”; it needs an actor’s inflection to give the words meaning. The true charm of this film is watching how the pair of them interact - Rosencrantz is unconcerned that the laws of probibility are up the spout, easily distracted by little things such as discovering gravity and appreciative of small beauties (i.e. a paper boat in a bathtub...). Guildenstern is, to virtually quote the character note in the play, perfectly aware that something very wrong is going on somewhere - aware but forcibly determined not to panic about it. G refuses to lighten up, R refuses to concentrate...they're both very sweet, in their own way, and as there's only ever two brief instances when they're in seperate rooms, that all adds up to an awful lot of combined sweetness. They're like children, in a way. And I want to give them both a very big hug...

And it’s a play about acting. That’s the wonder of it. On the surface, it’s a string of very funny lines. Alternately, you can go deep into the layers of meaning and metaphor, a la GSCE English analysis.

Finally, the directing is lovely. Elsinore castle has never looked more paranoid, with all the characters peering in on one another through innumerable barred windows and down secret trapdoors. This allows for some wonderful lighting too (when I get around to it, I'll add a screenshot...despite my unreasonably large collection, somehow I managed not to get a shot of the scene I'm thinking of)

Did I mention it was brown? This is a very, very brown film. One of Guildenstern's most beautiful speeches cut, but in the play, describes autumn as "a certain brownness creeping in at the edge of the day". Well they didn't need it in the movie, did they. The mis-en-scene does it all for them.

I always get suspicious of people who claim they’re the greatest fan ever, and I’ve never done it myself. But here I could almost make an exception – I am pretty damn obsessed, really. I shelled out about £30 for a second hand Dutch copy. And picking that particular screenshot from a collection of 414 took a long time. Don't get me started on my collection of 600+ icons...love it forever…

If my random babbling hasn't produced much of an impression (yes, the above paragraphs really were as badly written as you thought they were...) I direct you here. They're all good, but the review at the top in particular I always quote liberally when trying to pursuade people to see it.

Sum up the film in a moment: In R+GaD, a play based on the play Hamlet, the characters sit down to watch the play “The Murder of Gonzago”, in which the King and Queen sit down to watch a play performed by puppets re-enacting the murder of Gonzago, which in itself is a reenactment of Hamlet’s dad’s own death. A play, within a play, within a play, within a play. Although arguably, the other scene on stage (the Tragedians perform Hamlet as a comedy) – climaxing with the Player’s comment “eight!” – is just as important.
Best scene: Well it's not my favourite, but the best scene must surely be questions. Even people who hate this film (and believe me, I can name a fair few) perk up for this bit because it's just so damn amusing.
Best line: Are you kidding me?! I'm meant to pick a best line from all of that?! For now: "You would think that this would fall faster than this, wouldn't you?...and you'd be absolutely right."
Favourite character: As if you could choose between them…Guildenstern. See; BCSk
Nerdy observation: the first time they meet, the Player is wearing something similar to G’s costume. In the castle he’s dressed as Hamlet. But most disturbingly, at the end he is wearing precicely R’s outfit. Don’t ask me why…and in the actual play of Hamlet, R has significantly more lines than G - which is strange, as you'd kinda expect the opposite.
Special mention: the costumes!!! I love them so much I’ve made Ken-sized replicas.
Best watched: when you're starting to get pretty worried about a friend.

I'm feeling rubbish right now. I just got my film studies coursework back and I've got to watch the same five minutes of Alien over and over again bit.

The good news is that I've now seen Duck Soup (v. strongly recommended by a friend). The bad news is that in the last three days, at least four separate people have gasped "you've never seen the Wizard of Oz", and I've had to explain that I got too scared of the witch to see the end. So I'll have to see it...

And finally...team Herzog lost Screen Play again this week, despite cheating (I sign-languaged one of the answers over to my sister...) No time for more detail now...got to go sleep...I'm going to be old (well, 17...) tomorrow. Fingers crossed I'm gonna get my cadillac. Or spaghetti westerns boxed set.

In defence of my top 12 - parts 3 and 4

3 Signs

Can't sufficiently break down in one sentence...it's not about aliens...


One could say Sixth Sense was the first film I ever saw properly. They just don’t make that many good quality kids films. I mean genuinely well directed, well acted kid-friendly masterpieces. You don’t see the likes of Kevin Spacey and Baz Luhrmann introducing those of a tender age to the big wide world of decent film making. Perhaps they should?

Anyway, Sixth Sense was one of those films which changed my life. To start with, I began doing a running leap towards my bed at night in case a ghost was hiding under there to grab my ankle; but more importantly, it was staggeringly well made. What sort of trash had I been watching for the first 12 years of my life?! I don’t know, but that was the one which introduced me to great moviemaking.

But I never really loved it (too busy hiding behind cushions), and it was left to his second effort to sweep me off in such a way I still cry every time I see it. A student of Hitchcock, his films are one long Maguffin. Take Signs. About aliens? You couldn’t be more wrong. The existence of aliens is merely the trigger that sets the ball rolling. It’s about faith, and love, and hope and destiny and lots of other wonderful wonderful emotions, and that’s what makes his films so beautiful. Sixth Sense scared the hell out of me (as it still does), but when you look at it it’s really about how we deal with loss and letting go. This is what makes me so cross about MNS’ detractors who complain Signs wasn’t scary – it wasn’t meant to be. Anyone who thought Sixth Sense was just about dead people is missing the point. And perhaps, then, that was the problem with The Village. It had no deeper message. I liked it a lot more than the majority, but I still felt something wasn’t quite there. The title “Signs” sums up what he’s been saying all along.

MNS is best known for films which can only be seen for the first time once. After you get to the end and he’s revealed his latest ace, you never see it in quite the same way again. Most notably, in Sixth Sense, yes but Signs is as neatly plotted, and I don’t just mean introducing Morgan’s asthma and Bo’s water tick early on. When the dog gets ill, Graham mentions he’ll call so-and-so the doctor (implying not a vet). I forget how the rest goes, but it’s a tiny scene I’ve never seen the importance of, never even noticed, until today – when Graham visits Ray, there’s an establishing shot of his house. His mail box reads “R. Reddy – vetenarian”. It’s an afterthought of an observation. More crucially, Merrel’s throwaway remark near the end that they were gone, only leaving their wounded behind requires a second think after they go back upstairs. Every moment in this film counts – either it’s advancing the characters, or the plot. Period. No plotlets unresolved, no pointless conversation. This, ladies and gentlemen, is how you script a movie (see: Reservoir Dogs, starring in a later post)

Apparently there’s a lot of religious imagery in here too. I’ve only ever thought “last supper” when they’re picking what to eat, but I’m sure there are more. It’s a tribute to his skill he can put it in without banging you over the head with it.

What most impressed me the first time I saw this was the balance. It’s about as scary as I can handle, but there’s deep humanity there as well. It’s sad in places, tense, there’s even the odd amusing moment. It’s not about the scares dammit! In every other alien film I’d seen, the hero went out to save the world from invasion. The idea that someone was treating the genre seriously! And the hero just stays at home taking care of his own family?! I’d never seen anything like it. And it runs you through all the emotions, which are always sincere and never feel forced.

Everyone always talks about the twist. It’s become a guessing game to spot it beforehand. And there is a strange turn of sorts at the end of this, but you’ll feel cheated if you go in expecting it to be mindblowing. It’s a perfect reflection of the rest of the film – if you’re hating it, you’ll be pretty sceptical – but at that moment, I, for one, was ready to believe whatever he threw at me. Graham’s a secret crossdresser? Yeh. Totally. The aliens are a product of his split mind? That too.

I’m very suceptible to criticism. I don’t have that much faith in my own opinions, which is why I never read bad reviews of films I’ve loved, always end up agreeing with the opposition when arguing and haven’t seen this film for three years since Friends 1 and 4 mocked the hell out of it. The reason I watched it today was I wanted to know if it was actually all that good…three years is a long time, I’ve changed, and I feared it was on my list out of habit rather than genuine affection. Fret no more. I wrote an entire two pages about it, which looks like enthusiasm to me. It’s stunningly well made (cripes, I haven’t even mentioned the acting yet), and there are very very few films that still make me cry every time

Sum up the film in a moment: "Is it possible there are no coincidences?"
Best scene: Ray Reddy in the car. You may, at this moment, quote Ed Wood. “I write, direct, act and produce” “Nobody does all that.” “Just two people – me and Orson Welles”. And MNS. And me, as it happens, but I’m obviously lining up with Ed as opposed to Orson. He’s definitely attempting auteurdom. Here's some clues:

• He’s worked with the same composer 5 films running - James Newton Howard, long may it remain!
• He follows the auteur-actor continuation rule (Signs->Village = joaquin Phoenix. Village-> Lady in the Water = Bruce Dallas Howard etc).
• His films have a definite style and number of identifiable traits and ideas – the twist, yeh, but has anyone else ever noticed the theme of redemption through the supernatural? Or the inclusion of virtually unimportant sub-mystical traits (Bo’s “feelings” in Signs, Ivy’s ability to see auras.)

And now he’s appearing in his own films. I’ve heard a fair few detractors, but I don’t think that’s quite fair. Even before I knew it was his somewhat extended director’s cameo, I loved it. I just have a thing for the guilty, and his despairing delivery of “people who kill reverend’s wives don’t exactly get ushered to the front of the line in heaven” breaks my heart every time.

Best line: “Excluding the possibility that a female, Scandinavian Olimpiad was running around our house last night, what else could be a possibility?”
Favourite character: Bo Hess is so sweet, but I really did like Ray, on account of the scene.
Nerdy observation: fearing a nasty death, the Hess family all eat their favourite foods the night before. But did anybody notice that Bo had put on her prettiest party frock? It might even have been a fancy dress Disney Princess costume, I’m not sure. Still…very sweet…
Special mention: the music. Those three notes become your best friends during this movie. They dash from curious, to creepy, to sensitive, to all out wonder. Most impressively in the final song, where it actually does all that within two minutes without feeling messy. MNS says he always makes sure a film can work on its own before even considering music, which is commendable, but I’m sure it’s the tune as much as the images I’m sobbing over.
Best watched: when you’ve given up all hope in life.

4 Fellowship of the Ring
Nine heroes set out to destroy a ring which, in the wrong hands, would enslave the world

Sixth Sense changed my moviewatching life. FOTR actually genuinely changed my life. I was snotty before I saw it – and for a fair while afterwards, it must be said – but all that goodness had a positive effect on my personality. Which is why I’m not trying to condense it into best scene etc. It just IS. I just can’t analyse it the way other people can. I refuse to get drawn into conversations about its cinematic merit, because for me it’s always been more than just a film.


You can tell I’m one of the people who speak two dialects of elven, can’t you?




In other news... getting rather paniced about PJ being sacked. OK, I'm sure someone else will do the job well, but there's no one else I trust to do it as faithfully. Friend 3 has come up with a genius plan - she's taken out an Total Film subscription. I've had Empire for a year - we're going to swap them once we've finished. Last night I watched Pulp Fiction again while doing homework - it's really comforting. The pace is slow, the cinematography calm and it's thoroughly pleasant to have the words and music wash over while you work. Out of three friends on MSN messenger, only one asked whether I wanted to be left alone when I said I was watching it. I said no, but I think I need better friends...

Review. Alright, not a review, a gush about Godfather part II

Well, I've seen it, and I can now go home, sit in my bath and die a happy woman. What do I say? What on earth can I say? Firstly thank the gods that the Godfather movies are those rare things, movies that improve with every watch. Perhaps it's because they're damn confusing and need several goes to appreciate the depth, perhaps just because they're great.

For the purposes of this discussion, Godfather I is "the present", II is "the future" and anything else "the past". Not strictly true, but close enough.

I can see why it's called cinema's greatest sequal, but it's not as good as the original in my most humble opinion. I think what's really missing is the arc. You don't get to see so much of an emotional journey from anyone. It's a bit like the second half of The Godfather, only four times as long. Vito's avuncular presence in the "future" non-flashback section is sorely missed.

The mark of a good sequal is it referencing the original, without being a copy. Now because this film surrounds the original chronalogically, you get to learn how the character in a wheelchair got there and what later happened to Clemenza (I can't actually remember which one he was, but I do recognise the name!). My greatest disappointment with Zulu Dawn was that through all the long, laborious "crossing the river" sequence, not one of the characters made a remark that somebody should build a bridge - a brilliant treat for fans of the original.

I may be about to make myself enemies here, but I do think it fails on the second point. Many times this felt an intsy bit like a rehash of the original. Begins with Family party, which patriarch misses most of due to conversations in a dark office. Ends with a well-coordinated series of messy deaths. Contains obligatory blasphemous death during Catholic ceremony. Poor Kay even gets a door shut on her again.

The amusing thing is, of all the films I've ever seen, this would be the only one I'd trust myself to recognise a character purely from their sillouhette or voice. Because there are so many ill-lit shots (arty yes, confusing also) you really get to know them without seeing their faces.

This one didn't hit me quite as hard as the last one. Did I tell you how long it took me to recover? Several weeks at any rate, spent vaguely in a dream. Don't laugh it's serious! I had to invite a friend round next day to give me something else to think about. Anyway, this one only took a few days.

I'm doing the Cold War in history GSCE and had trouble with the dates. But New Years Eve 1959 is one I am now never going to forget ever.

My dads only real comment, apart from shock that the film stretched across two discs, was that one day he really wanted to try a banana daiquiri, just so he could find out what it was.

I thought the change of Vito would be really jarring, but actually it wasn't so bad. Possibly because in the flashbacks he took turns at resembling his various sons, possibly because he never trespassed into what I am calling "the present".

In fact, the second-to-last-ish scene, the one back just before the original film, with the entire family around the table - that must have been my favorite part. If only Solezzo had known quite what he was unleashing, he might have thought twice before doing what he did...

And now, we go onto my favorite subject.

I madly adored a character once who, when irritated, became cold and snippy; when angered shouted and when absolutely brimming with fury, became cold again. He reminds me very much of our Michael at times. Everyone has a thing they can't take, that really hurts - and the poor don gets walloped where it hurts about four or five times by the end.

There are the odd savagely amusing bits. Michael's sincerity is an absolute joy to behold. Anyone who adored the final two scenes of the original will have a ball here. The casual mistruths are slipped in perfectly naturally.

Highlight if you've already seen the film, or if you just want to enternally spoil it for yourself.


Only one thing has troubled me unduly. After leaving the party on the aforementioned New Years Eve, Michael shouts to Fredo to come back - "You're still my brother". Now I genuinely wonder whether he always had it in for Fredo, I really do...was leaving when he did actually a better idea in the long run? I don't know...